


The Safeword is Orange Soda

by bro__strider



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Collars, FTM Dirk, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, Restraints, Riding, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:51:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bro__strider/pseuds/bro__strider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk always gets a bit frisky after his shots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Safeword is Orange Soda

"So I'm going to be pulling the strings tonight," Dirk had said, palming your erection in that devilishy teasing manner of his.

He knows fine well that like this-- him lounging stark naked on your lap with his hands wandering over you –you are perfectly willing to succumb. Being quite flustered by the proceedings you were nodding enthusiastically before he could even elaborate. This causes him to roll his eyes in that fond manner and squeezing at your crotch firmly to demand your unwavering attention.

"You're going to take these off," he snaps the waistband of your briefs for emphasis, "Whilst I get us something."

You watch him stalk off to erm, _that_ drawer, taking a moment to admire that very pert bottom of his. You love when he extends that everyday confidence to your sex life. Like tonight he feels confident enough to go without a shirt, exposing the somewhat perky chest you know can occasionally upset him. Still after all this time you are aware your boundaries and he trusts you completely. As expected the shot he had yesterday has also gave his libido a firm kick up the backside, which may also have something to do with his burst of wanton bravery. 

After inwardly doting on your boyfriend you obey his demand, stripping off your underwear and waiting on the edge of the bed. He comes back with your collar (his remains in the drawer; you both prefer having your own instead of sharing) a pair of fabric restraints and a sly smile, perching on your lap again to prepare you.

He slips the collar around your neck, buckling it so the leather feels snug against your skin but not uncomfortably so. It's more of a sensory reminder that he's in charge right now rather than a statement of brutal dominance. With the collar sorted he gives the metal leash ring a firm tug, asserting his claim on you.

"Now." He says, leaning into your chest. You bite your lip as his hand delicately strokes the patch of hair there. "I'm going to use these on you," he holds up the restraints, "so I need you to lie back for me."

You go to move. However Dirk idly runs his deft fingers over your cock. You falter, he looks up to you.

"Safe word is orange soda." He adds with a playful smirk. You can't resist planting a quick kiss to his smug lips. Being the opportunistic sort of fellow he is Dirk deepens the kiss and pushes you back into position, swiftly working the restraints around your wrists and securing them with a few tugs.

He leans over to the bedside drawer while he straddles you. His chest is sort of in your face but you refrain from nipping and sucking at his nipples. That's only for when you have his explicit permission. Instead you take the brief moment to admire the light layer of hair starting to spread there until he finds and unwraps a condom. No lube though. Well now. You suppose that makes his intentions rather clear.

He wastes no time in getting your dick covered but he stops right before he sinks down on to you. He rubs his dick-- you note it seems to have undergone another growth spurt --against your tip, teasing you with the faint pressure and slickness. Judging by how wet he is he clearly wants this just as much as you do, so why the devil fucking dickens does he have to be such an infuriating tease? The restraints tighten as you clench your fists and try to stop yourself bucking up.

"For frigs flipping sake, Dirk..." you growl, sweat prickling on your skin as your muscles strain in effort, "Do just-- fuck, get on with it!"

He halts completely, dick resting against your own, and raises a single brow in disapproval.

"Rude," he tsks, reaching to give your collar a firm tug. "You're not the one making the rules here."

Breath catches in your throat as you shakily apologise for your disobedience. Seemingly satisfied, Dirk carries on, biting his lip as his dick swells against yours. While he continues his torturous actions he moves his hand around the base of your dick then down to massage your balls sufferingly slowly while you can only lie there brimming in frustration.

Just when you think you can't handle any more of his confounded teasing he stops. Before you can beg him for more, he raises his hips and sinks down on your cock, just slightly down on to the tip, enough to make you gasp. He's hot and wet and tight and gad damn zooks you just want to stick your dick in this boy already. 

"Dirk-- _please_ ," you beg, pulling at your bindings.

"Well," he says, as if he's taking it into consideration, "Since you asked so nicely..."

Then he slams down on to you with a loud moan, mutually forcing a sharp gasp from your throat. Taking a moment to adjust, he grinds down against you, whining softly as your cock shifts inside him. Then he raises up again, gradually taking in more of your dick each time until he's fucking himself on your dick at a splendidly relentless pace. He had already riled you up something awful with his coy teasing, and it's not long before you begin to feel a familiar pressure building. That prickish dominance he had shatters; now he's groaning and whining as he desperately tries to take you in as deep as possible. 

"Christ, look at you. You're damn near gagging for it," you breathe, "You fucking s-- slut..."

A sudden sharp pain-- he's slapped you right across the face for your blunt cheek. "Shut the fuck up."

Before you can retort he halts his pace. He rises forward with the tip of you dick still inside of him as he fumbles with your bounds. When you're free from your restraints, Dirk yanks you forward by the loop of your collar.

"Fuck me. From behind." He orders, already shoving you into position.

"A-- all right," you respond, shaky from being on the edge of release. As if sensing your urge, Dirk wraps his hand around the base of your cock and squeezes hard enough to force a squeaking noise from you.

"Don't you dare come until I say you can."

You nod obediently as he gets on his hands and knees in front of you. Once he's ready you line up and ease back into him. You lean forward with your chest against his back and chin on his shoulder so he can hold on to your collar. You also know he finds it comforting, even in situations like this, though he wouldn't admit it.

As per his wishes you fuck him senseless as he grips at your collar over his shoulder and pants into the pillow. You do so love the sound of your thighs slapping against his as you force yourself in deeper. Dirk twitches beneath you and despite your current positions, you growl and bite at the back of his neck. With a breathy gasp, he releases your collar and grabs at the pillow with both hands. You take this as a sign of relenting his control, so you slam harder, biting and sucking at whatever part of skin you can reach. Though you don't have permission to do so you sneak a hand between his legs to flick at his dick and he whines, legs shaking as he clenches around you and wets your fingers. Well now.

Although you're close you stop your movements. It's his call what happens next and not just because of your bondage.

"You can finish." he says quietly, shifting his hips back against you. You sigh appreciatively as you thrust forward just a few more times before your orgasm shakes through you, leaving you hot and panting against your boyfriend's back.

You pull out and deal with the condom. You aren't terribly fond of the things, but you can put up with a bit of discomfort for your partner's sake. Dirk is still lying face down on the pillow. You gently run your fingertips down his spine, prompting him to turn over on to his back. His hair his mussed, pale skin flushed red and glistening in a layer of sweat-- this post-fuck look topped off with a rare hint of a shy smile.

He's utterly gorgeous.

He beckons you forward and you oblige. His deft hands work at your collar and he sets it aside. You move forward to hold him gently-- you kiss his forehead and he strokes at your hair. After a few brief moments of basking in the afterglow, you become aware of the dampness on your thighs and hand and you just can't stifle a chuckle.

"You squirted," you say, pecking him on the cheek.

"Yeah," he breathes, sounding very much at ease, "That's been a thing lately."

"Lovely." You reply, then glance down, running your hand through his coarse pubic hair. "You know, you're getting rather big down there, chap."

You accidentally brush his dick, still swollen and over sensitive. Before you can apologise, he catches your wrist in his hand.

"Can you just, uh, get me off. Once more. Go slow."

And because you adore him-- for all he is and what he's been through --of course you are more than willing to oblige.


End file.
